


The Dairy Case

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine runs into Burt in front of the dairy case.</p><p>set after 4x19 (“Sweet Dreams”)</p><p>warnings for brief references to events of 4x18 (“Shooting Star”), school violence</p><p>an exercise in freewriting</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dairy Case

Blaine double-checked the list his mother had texted him against the items in his basket: a jar of mustard (dijon), a loaf of bread (crusty french), a box of dishwasher detergent tablets (citrus), eight apples (fuji), two bottles of seltzer (lime), a jar of dried thyme (organic), and three containers of broth (free range chicken). No, he hadn’t missed anything. It was all in there apart from the gallon of milk (skim), which was sitting in the fluorescent-lit case right in front of him.

He shifted the heavy basket to his other arm to get the final item for his mother, but before he could pull open the door and grab a jug of milk he was stopped by the sound of his name.

“Blaine?”

Blaine turned to find Kurt’s father standing a few feet away, still wearing his coveralls like he was heading home from the garage the same way Blaine was heading home after Cheerios practice. He wondered if Carole had given _him_ a last minute list. “Burt!” he said with a smile. “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Burt replied with a smile of his own, easy enough but maybe a little distracted. “I should be asking you that, though. How are _you_ doing? I know Carole texted with you, but...”

_Cowering on the floor, waiting for the horror of more gunshots. Being hugged more in one night by his father than he had in a year. Cooper actually calling from LA to check up on him. Listening to Tina for an hour on the phone as she talked about gears and watches as accessories and nothing about him. Sitting with Sam at lunch, or at least sitting at a table at lunch while Sam came and went every minute or so to switch between his two alter egos. Trying to pull together a set list for Regionals that hadn’t been done to death and getting yelled at by Mr. Schuester for the sin of being a responsible leader. Making himself sit and study last night for his history test despite being so tired and having the sounds of shooting echoing in his ears ..._

“I’m fine,” Blaine replied, not letting his smile drop. “Busy. Glee club is getting ready for Regionals, and the school year is almost over, so there’s a lot on my plate. But I really appreciated you and Carole checking on me after the shooting.”

Burt nodded slowly. “Of course we checked up on you. We were worried.” He looked at Blaine for a minute and added, not quite pointedly, “Still are.”

“I’m okay.” Blaine held out his arms a little in illustration. “Not a scratch on me besides the one on my arm from Tina’s new bracelet today. I guess I’ve gotten out of practice dodging dangerous accessories without Kurt around.” He could feel his expression slide toward the melancholy, and he wrestled it back into something more appropriate for company. He was doing fine. He was just under some pressure, but everybody was.

And he missed Kurt; of course he missed Kurt, and not just because he never would have let himself get scratched if he were still used to the challenge of getting close to Kurt with all of his sharp pins and things. He missed Kurt’s smile, his bright mind, his sharply focused attention, and the perfect way he could slide his arms around Blaine and make everything else, every stress or worry, vanish. He missed that _so_ much.

Burt huffed out a laugh at the comment, but he said, “More ways to be hurt than just physically. You know that, right? I heard they got counselors for the school.”

Blaine nodded. “They do. But I’m okay. I think we all just want to move past it.” It made sense to focus on other things. It was a little more difficult when all Blaine wanted was to work hard and get everything in order for Regionals and yet his two closest friends were bouncing back and forth thinking about new ways of expressing themselves, but he was managing. It was all right.

Burt shifted the package he was holding from one hand to the other and adjusted his grease-stained cap on his head. “Well. I’m glad to hear that. But if you aren’t, there’s no shame in reaching out.”

“I know,” Blaine said politely. “Thank you.”

Burt watched him for another moment, and then he said, “Come here,” took the basket from Blaine, set it on the floor, and pulled him in for a hug right there in the middle of the store.

Blaine’s breath caught in his throat in surprise, but after a fraction of a section of shock he wrapped his arms around Burt and hugged him back. It felt warm, loving, and wonderful, almost overwhelming in its straightforward affection; it was just totally unexpected. He didn’t expect to be cared for in that way by Kurt’s father. He knew Burt liked him and approved of him enough to have brought him along to New York over Christmas, but Blaine was only Burt’s son’s cheating ex-boyfriend, and without Kurt’s approval they’d never be able to be close the way they used to be when Blaine was around the house so much, nevertheless them all become the family Blaine still dreamed they could be -

“Glad you’re okay, kid,” Burt said, his voice low and kind but rough, like it really meant something to him.

Blaine closed his eyes and tried to push away the prickle of tears in the back of his nose at the words and the semi-familiar scents of motor oil and Kurt’s laundry detergent. He could hear the relief in Burt’s voice, the tenderness, the caring and concern. It was right there all around him, right there despite everything that happened.

“Thank you,” Blaine said again, more hoarse than he would have expected, since he was fine. This was a nice moment, and he appreciated the hug, but he was _fine_. He was stressed by school, frustrated and hurt by Mr. Schuester, annoyed by Roz, upset about his friends being detached from him in their own worlds, but that was all normal, and that was it.

Burt clapped him on the back and let him go, and Blaine picked up his basket to hide the fact that he was flustered by the display of emotion toward him. It was heart-filling to see that Burt cared so much, but it made him feel shaken. In part it was because it was something he wanted so desperately and wasn’t sure Kurt would ever allow him to have, but also knowing other people were worried about him made him feel vulnerable and reminded him of how scared he’d been. He could still bring forth those feelings - the fear, the despair, the hope and hopelessness combined - as vividly as he’d felt them on the floor of the choir room if he thought about it. That’s why he was trying not to think about it at all. There were other things he needed to do, and he was going to do them.

He righted the bottle of thyme, which had fallen over in the basket, and made sure the apples weren’t crushing the bread. His mother would be upset if the bread was squished.

“Everything all right?” Burt asked, watching him fuss with the items in the basket. “Nothing flattened?”

“It’s all okay,” Blaine said, though his stomach was twisted in all too familiar knots. He had been working so hard not to let the shooting affect him; one hug in the middle of the dairy section shouldn’t make it feel like all of his focus could be shattered. But then he’d always been touched by the strong feelings of Hummel men. He doubted he’d ever become immune to it.

“I’ll tell Kurt I saw you,” Burt said, reaching into the case and grabbing a half-gallon of milk. “He’ll be real glad I did.”

Blaine hooked his basket over his arm. “I am, too.” It was true. The hug might have left him unsettled, but he couldn’t be at all sorry to see him.

“Yeah,” Burt said with a nod and held the door open for Blaine to grab his own container of milk. He hesitated, just for a second, before continuing. “And you should call him. I know he’s been worried. And he’s a good listener.”

“I know,” Blaine said quietly. Kurt had always been a safe person with whom to share the secrets of his heart. He just wasn’t sure it would help at all to talk about it. It was better to keep moving forward.

Burt nodded again, not quite approvingly, like he wasn’t pleased by Blaine not really wanting to talk about what had happened at the school.

The disapproval sat heavily on Blaine’s chest, because he was trying his best, and it wasn’t like he was avoiding Kurt; they’d talked soon after the shooting, they’d been texting, they’d just both been busy, and things were still awkward, and... It didn’t matter. He should still call, if Kurt was worried. Kurt was worth that much, way more than that much. Blaine could make the effort. He could hold it together, and if he didn’t, Kurt would probably catch him the way he almost always did.

So he took a breath, looked up into Burt’s steady gaze, and said, “I’ll call him.”

“Good. He’ll be real happy.” Burt looked away then and shifted his weight nervously. “But when you do... keep this between us?” He held up the package of bacon in his hand.

Blaine stared at it for a second, not quite understanding why Burt was asking, then burst out in a startled but honest laugh. “I can do that,” he promised.

“Good,” Burt smiled warmly at him, and for a single, perfect moment Blaine could see a future filled with sneaking forbidden pepperoni pizzas with Burt, betting about Kurt’s behavior, rolling eyes fondly behind Kurt’s well-dressed back, and having shared jokes and harmless secrets and favorite meals and visits and welcoming hugs and family holidays and just _family_.

It made his heart stop in his chest with how much he _wanted_ it.

And then Blaine stepped back, because he couldn’t have it. Not today, maybe not ever, maybe he would never get everything he wanted, because life was random and sometimes horrible and often unfair, and all he could do today was be the man he was supposed to be and be responsible about what was right in front of him.

So he focused on the reality of the heavy basket on his arm and the home with his parents that was the only one he could call his own and said, “Thank you again. I should get these to my mom before she starts texting me about running late.” He gestured with the gallon of milk.

“Don’t want that,” Burt agreed. There was probably a mocking undertone to the bland comment - Blaine had heard that a lot from him over the years, directed at Kurt and sometimes at himself - but it was fond mocking, the kind you give to family when you’re amused by the quirks of their personality. “It was good to see you, kid.”

“You, too,” Blaine said. He stood there for a long moment, then nodded and turned toward the registers. It was a lot harder than it should have been, but he did it anyway. He had things he was supposed to be doing instead of soaking up unexpected comfort in the dairy aisle.

So he paid for the groceries and texted his mother to let her know he was on his way, he skimmed through the twenty-five text messages from Sam and Evan talking to each other, and he almost didn’t flinch when a car door slammed loudly shut across the lot. It was just a car door. It was fine.

“Hey, Blaine,” Burt said, leaning out of the window of his car as he pulled to a stop behind Blaine. Blaine set his bags in his trunk and looked up. “Come on by for dinner sometime. Carole’d love to see you. You can catch us up on everything that’s going on in that glee club of yours. It’s real quiet without the stories.”

Blaine knew as well as anyone how little Burt was interested in following all of the drama of the New Directions; he’d tuned out of most of the conversations even when Kurt and Finn were living at home. But he also knew kindness and determination when he heard it, knew this was important to Burt for whatever reason, and he didn’t want to say no. He just wasn’t sure he should say yes. He was so busy, Regionals was coming up fast, and he didn’t want to take a wrong step with Kurt and make things worse...

At his hesitation, Burt said, “Don’t have to give me an answer now. You can always drop by. Door’s always open.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said, as sincerely as he could.

“Well, I’ve got to repay you for not spilling the beans about the bacon somehow,” Burt told him with a twinkle in his eye, and then he waved and drove off before Blaine could reply.

Blaine found himself smiling when he shut his trunk, caught by this secret they now shared, and even if the ground felt shaky beneath his feet and his muscles felt as tense as they had all week, at least his heart for a change felt warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free! Please do not spoil me for things ahead! I know nothing and want to keep it that way!


End file.
